


Watching the detectives

by NairobiWonders



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Joanlock - Freeform, Kind of humor, toothrotting sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 09:38:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10716867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NairobiWonders/pseuds/NairobiWonders
Summary: This started on tumblr to fill a prompt from @lovelybluebox - "tooth-rottingly fluffy" - I added more and it got too long for tumblr so I am putting it here. It's light. It's sweet. It's fluffy. Hopefully fun.And I was able to work in two favorite PBS shows and "the" phrase I've been wanting to add to a fic since 2013 but it always sounds silly - hopefully it works here.





	Watching the detectives

"What do you think?" Joan held up her left hand and waved it in front of Sherlock. The diamond glittered on her ring finger. 

Sherlock, his arm casually slung around her shoulders, smiled, "I think it is almost as beautiful as you, sweetheart." 

Joan smiled and ducked her head down in pleased embarrassment. She pressed in close to his chest and he placed a small kiss to the top her head before addressing the antique store owner. "What is the provenance of the ring if I may ask?"

The older man put on his bifocals smiling kindly at the couple, "Let me check our records." He pulled out an old notebook and began flipping through the yellowed pages.

Marcus, who moments before had walked into the store looking for a gift for His aunt, stood dumbfounded. Obviously, they weren't aware of his presence and he wasn't sure he wanted them to be. They stood at the glass counter cooing at each other of all things. There was something wrong here - unless he had completely misread Joan and Sherlock's relationship all these years ... No. They were up to something. Perhaps investigating forged antiques or laundered money or .... oh, oh no, they were kissing ... full on the lips... Embarrassed, Marcus didn't know where to look. He scanned the shelves, picking up an ancient-looking brass oil lamp and examining it way closer than he'd ever examined an ancient-looking brass oil lamp before. This wasn't right.... This just was not right. 

Sherlock spoke. "Never mind, sir. You can send us the information later. We've decided to purchase the ring no matter what its provenance. You'll take American Express or does it need to be cash?"

Ah hah! thought Marcus, this is where they get the evidence they need to flush out whatever scheme they were trying to flush out. Marcus watched as the transaction was quickly concluded. He stood transfixed as they turned to leave and spotted him. 

Sherlock discreetly removed his hand from Joan's shoulders. Her cheeks turned pink as she spoke. "Marcus, what are you doing here?"

"I... uhm ... Auntie's birthday ..." he waved the brass lamp in front of them.

"Interesting choice." Sherlock regained his composure. "I'm sure she'll be thrilled with the possiblity of conjuring a djinn." He nodded at Marcus who, still stunned at the encounter, awkwardly nodded back.

"Well," Joan spoke up. "Nice to see you but we're running late." She touched Sherlock's arm, "We need to go."

"Right. Right. Off we go then." 

With that, they exited the store leaving a confused Marcus about to purchase a $150.00 slightly tarnished oil lamp.

* * *

Barefooted, in a tank top, capri pants and with her hair twisted back in a messy ponytail, the Joan Watson that opened the door to him was not the same one he'd seen earlier that day.

"Marcus," she smiled. "Come on in, we've been expecting you."

"Oh?" Small shopping bag in hand, he cautiously walked in, still unsure if confronting them about the earlier meeting was the right thing to do.

Footsteps barreling up the stairs from the kitchen produced Sherlock. "Ah, detective! Come to investigate have you?" He seemed more upbeat than usual and he was dressed much more casually than Marcus expected - baggy sweatpants, printed tshirt and he too was barefoot. 

"I should have called. Hope I'm not interrup-"

"Don't be silly." Joan interrupted him. "Come on down to the kitchen, we're making dinner."

Marcus followed them down the stairs, taking the opportunity to ask the question to their backs. It wasn't as intrusive if he wasn't facing them when he asked. "So, today... at the antiques store ... were you two buying an ... uh ... engagement ring... I mean it's none of my business and all, so you really don't have to ...

They'd reach the landing and Sherlock turned to face him with a bounce. "Marcus, the question is beneath a detective such as yourself."

Joan looked at him with amusement. "Do you really think Sherlock and I would behave that way in public?" She shook her head at him and walked to the stove.

"Well, I thought it was odd but with you two..."

Sherlock waved him to the table and joined his partner. "We are investigating, for a private client, the authenticity of the artifacts offered by Mr. Loman. I will say I am well pleased that Watson and I were sufficiently believable as to have fooled even you." Sherlock shot Watson a cheeky look before picking up his knife and chopping noisily away at a green pepper. 

Joan smiled into the pot of sauce she was stirring and changed the subject. "Did you end up purchasing that oil lamp?"

Marcus looked down into the small bag he carried and responded with resignation, "Yeah I did. It was expensive to. I was so confused by you two that I...." A yelp of pain and the clatter of metal stopped him. "You alright Joan?

A pot lid twirled loudly on the floor and Joan held her hand, obviously in pain. 

"You burned yourself?" Sherlock's comment was more of a statement than a question.

"No shit, Sherlock." Pain made her sarcastic.

"Well, don't just stand there, come 'ere, come 'ere... Sherlock impatiently motioned her over to the sink where he had just turned on the cold water. He took her hand gingerly and placed her palm under the cool stream. "Better?" His voice registered concern.

Joan nodded yes in answer.

Marcus watched with interest. The body language as they stood close up against each other at the sink reminded him of the encounter earlier in the day. Bell considered himself a good detective. He usually picked up on things. What was it Sherlock called it ... haptic clues? But this, this was new. A change in how they related to each other was evident or maybe ... it had always been this way and they just now felt comfortable enough around him not to hide. 

"Perhaps you should just stay out of the kitchen hmm? What's the tally so far today, a cut and now a burn..." Sherlock teased as he dried her hand. "What's next?"

"Oh, maybe the bruise you're going to get if you keep this up?" The words were said with a broad smile.

"Ah! Duly noted. Go put a bandage on that and I'll finish up here."

Joan turned to Marcus. "I'm sorry. I'll be right back." She waved her burned palm before her. "You are going to stay for supper, right?"

Sherlock chimed in behind her. "Ethiopian lentil stew. I'll go easy on the spice for you."

"We're going to binge watch History Detectives after dinner." Joan added as further enticement. 

"Oh and perhaps a few Secrets of the Dead!" Sherlock opened his eyes wide and bobbed his head.

Marcus smiled at them. "Is this what you two do on a Saturday night?"

Joan shrugged her shoulder, "Yeah. Sometimes ... you know... not always."

"Well, it sounds like fun but I've got a family birthday thing to attend." He stood and placed the shopping bag on the table. "Here. Keep the oil lamp for your investigation. I don't think my Auntie would really appreciate it. I got her some nice earrings at Macy's."

 

Joan and Sherlock walked Marcus to the door. He turned as he was about to leave to look at them, not sure he should say anything. He wanted to tell them he was happy for them, that he hoped to someday have what they had. Instead, he smiled and waved and awkwardly walked away.


End file.
